“Sure you won’t change your mind about comin’ along, Preacher?” Rip asked. He inclined his head toward the fancy tent where the Easterners were. “Havin’ you around might make it a heap easier for me to ride herd on that bunch.”
Preacher laughed softly. “I’m afraid that’s your lookout, Rip. The lady ain’t what you’d call shy and retirin’, is she?”
Rip sighed and didn’t answer the question. “It’s a good job. Mr. Carling’s payin’ me a mighty good wage.”
“You tryin’ to convince me . . . or you?”
“I said I’d take ’em on into the mountains, and I figure on doin’ what I said I’d do.” A stubborn edge had come into Rip’s voice.
“I wouldn’t expect any less of you. Still, if that gal lets out a scream just because Luther Snell comes up and talks to her, I don’t know what she’ll do if you run into any real trouble.”
“He didn’t just talk to her,” Rip said. “When she told him to go away, he grabbed her arm and wanted to know what made her think she was so much better’n him.”
Preacher stopped and looked over at his old friend. His eyes narrowed. “Is that so? I didn’t know he’d laid hands on her.” He might not like Faith Carling, but he’d been raised to believe that a man didn’t lay hands on a woman in anger.
Rip nodded and said, “That’s what she told me when I first come runnin’ up, and Snell didn’t deny it. I was almost hopin’ he’d take a swing at me, so’s I’d have an excuse to wallop him some.” His broad shoulders rose and fell. “But Miss Faith was prob’ly right. Snell’s bunch would’ve jumped me, too.”
They might have discussed the matter further, but at that moment several of the fur company agents noticed Preacher and advanced toward him holding out their hands, ready to shake and make offers on the pelts Preacher had on the packhorse. Rip added, “See you later,” and moved on.
Preacher spent the next hour negotiating with the various representatives of the fur companies, and finally settled on a price with one of them. He was always glad to get that transaction concluded. He didn’t like haggling over money.
The agent counted out the agreed-upon amount in gold coins. Preacher put them away in a small leather pouch that he stowed under his buckskin shirt. Then the fur company man’s hired helpers unloaded the packhorse and carried the pelts into the tent that was serving as a temporary warehouse. Later, when the Rendezvous was over, they and all the other pelts the agent had bought would be loaded on pack animals and started on the long trip back to St. Louis.
Preacher shook hands with the man, who said, “Pleasure doing business with you.” As Preacher turned away, he wondered briefly what he was going to do next.
That question was answered unexpectedly as he found his arms suddenly full of woman and a pair of warm, demanding lips pressed themselves eagerly against his mouth.
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Copyright © 2006 William W. Johnstone
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.
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Betrayal of the Mountain Man Page 22